


There Is A Child

by smileybagel



Series: We Are Here, Father [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dreams, Gen, Implied Mpreg, Implied Relationship, Premonition, Seer!Thorin, Thorin is a Fucking Moron, foresight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smileybagel/pseuds/smileybagel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on Hobbit Kink.</p><p>Children visit Thorin in his dreams and he cannot hear their names, all he knows is that they are his and that he lost the only chance he had to make them real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In his dreams, there is a child.  
  
Even when Thorin was but a babe himself, not even thirty, his dreams showed a baby boy with unruly, dark, hair with one braid dangling against his cheek and eyes as green as the forests of Greenwood.  
  
This child's name is never clear to him, always covered and muffled as if the speaker were underwater, but he recognizes his own voice calling for the boy. The child turns, confusion across his face before his plump cheeks redden and his lips turn up into a smile, the title of father falling from his tongue. He runs to Thorin, his curiously bare feet patting on the stone floors of his rooms before he stops at his father's feet and clings to the fabric of Thorin's trousers.  
  
Thorin is much older in his dreams.   
  
His hair is long, peppered with gray streaks that put him past the one-hundred fifty year mark, but not yet past two hundred. His hands have become gnarled by work at a forge and handling a great many weapons, both in craft and battle. From his point of view as his dream-self leans down to scoop up the boy, he can see pale scars along his forearms. The thought makes him proud. In his dreams, he is a protector and bares the marks to prove it.  
  
When Thorin reaches adulthood, a girl joins the boy.   
  
Her hair flows long past her shoulders and to her feet, uncovered in her infancy as her brother's were. The thick blonde locks atop her head are braided twice, once for the majority of her hair and again across the crown of her head. Her eyes shine as his do, bright and blue with wisdom behind each orb. Her lips are soft and pink and curl into a smile when her brother reaches out and clasps his hands in hers.  
  
Thorin thinks she is the most beautiful girl in the world, especially when she happily cries "father".

\---

Thorin is a proud father in his dreams.

Erebor is in flames and home to a greedy drake. His grandfather and brother are dead, his father is missing, Moria lost to the orcs, but still Thorin smiles in his dreams. His children are older now, the boy nearing his teenage years of adventurous mischief and his daughter is close behind, already a shoe-in for being a beautiful young woman who will break the hearts of many. His son is the same, showing signs of a great, gentle handsomeness that many a lass will swoon after. 

Thorin wonders what his wife looks like.

She must be gorgeous, he thinks as he leads his people West, hoping for salvation. He gazes at his sister and wonders if his wife surpasses her beauty or equals her. Is her voice as gentle and soothing as his daughter's? Is she the source of his son's green eyes? He asks many questions, but knows to never hope for an answer. His dreams have failed to even show a hint of an image of his wife.

Thorin nurtures rage and anger in his breast and his dreams only feed the fire.

Years pass and the Blue Mountains serve as a good home for his people. The land and mountains provide many opportunities for the people now living in them. Many dwarves have families there, even his beloved younger sister. In the absence of his own dream-son, Thorin is proud to name his nephew Fili as Crown Prince. More years pass and Thorin bites back tears (this should be my daughter, his mind whispers, and Fili my son) as he presses a kiss to Kili's head and names him Second Prince. His sister-sons grow like weeds.

After he lays his nephews to sleep with their mother, Thorin falls into a fitful slumber. His children are not there, replaced by ambitious demands for a quest. He knows what he must do when he awakes. For his children, unreal as they may be, Thorin needs to procure a home for them. He vows to retake his lost kingdom for his fallen brethren, but also for his future generations. His children should grow up knowing the splendor of Erebor, not the shabby buildings and homes of the Blue Mountains. They will be honored descendants of Durin, not commonfolk dwarves of the West.

Thorin calls twelve to his aid, his own sister-sons at his sides, and they march for Erebor.


	2. Chapter 2

The fourteenth member of his Company is small and fragile and Thorin cannot help the flinch that comes when he sees Bilbo's very green eyes and honey-blonde hair.  
  
Thorin cannot even feign true contempt for the poorly-prepared hobbit as they march through the wilderness. He opts for annoyance and careful anger, his words subtle requests for the small creature to abandon this foolish mission and return to his home. Nothing works and Thorin nearly falls to his knees when the halfing promises to help them regain their home.  
  
He does not dream of his children until they reach the skin-changer's home and his son has a beard when he sees him. In his dream, he lets his father stroke the fine hair on his face as he proudly shows it off. His sister is giggling behind him, also proud of her brother's first beard. Her own face is showing signs of dark whiskers and Thorin is reminded of his mother's beard, so he smiles and laughs and pulls them both close. He wakes just after he presses a kiss to their temples.  
  
In the dark of Mirkwood, Thorin's dreams turn to nightmares and his children are slaughtered by Smaug. His stay in the wood is not pleasant and he cannot name the relief he feels when his children return to him once his Company is in Lake Town. A hopeful father's joy urges the Company ever onward, its leader more determined than ever.

\---

The trek to the mountain is long and grueling and Thorin can practically taste the sulfur in the air. When they reach the mountain and await the sun of Durin's Day, they breathe a sigh of relief. It is still some days off so Thorin allows his men rest and relaxation. The king pays close attention to the hobbit, going over plans with him and building a good friendship with the man. When the time comes for Bilbo to venture within and face Smaug, Thorin has to stop himself from going in directly after him.  
  
Thorin sleeps as he waits for Bilbo to return and dreams of his children dancing together. They stop for a moment and cry out a new name, but it is submerged and Thorin cannot decipher it. When he turns to greet the newcomer of his dreams, a dragon's roar and Bilbo's urgent calls awake him.  
  
He follows the waking voice and forgets his dream by sundown when they fight the drake.   
  
Once the worm is gone from his halls of treasure, Thorin loses himself and his children.  
  
The great piles of glittering gold dazzle his senses and immediately he is transported to his youth as Crown Prince of Erebor. He is happy once more and his home is once again his. He has succeeded and there is nothing he cares for more than his kingdom in that moment. Jewels fill his eyes but he finds that he misses the most impressive stone of all, so he commands his tired Company to search for the forgotten Arkenstone.   
  
They tear through pile after pile of sparkling coins and gems but nothing reveals itself to them. He continues on, even when the dwarves stop and claim the task a mad-man's job, and roars in pure rage when the stone cannot be found.   
  
Soon after, he hears a Man at his doorstep as well as a pompous elf and his blood boils. It is all he can do to not slam his axe into Thranduil's nose when the Elfking declares his reason for trespassing onto dwarven soil after turning his cheek to it years ago.  
  
Seconds later and Thorin must restrain himself from slamming his blade into Bilbo's stomach, the lies and deceit fresh in his mind. The pain of betrayal weighs heavy on him and he knows the halfing trembles where he stands, on the verge of tears as he is cursed by the king.  
  
His heart gives a twinge and skips, but Thorin pays it no mind. Simply the result of broken trust and nothing more.


	3. Chapter 3

The betrayal that plagues his mind is maddening and Thorin does the only thing he can: he banishes the hobbit, their burglar, who had only done what he was hired to do, and prepares for war. Somewhere, he thinks he can hear his daughter calling him foolish in a tear-laden voice and his son growling at him, angry and violent and  _hurt_ , but he pushes the thought aside. Now is not the time for regret, he tells himself.  
  
His voice travels across the fields and screams follow. Man, Elf, Dwarf, and Orc alike crash like waves against each other. His kin are slain, their blood as red as anyone else's, and still he fights.  
  
Pain blossoms at all sides but he grits his teeth and fights through the urge to lay down and die.  
  
Orcs fall at his feet and Thorin feels a grim satisfaction. He wonders if his son will be every bit as fierce in battle as he is. He wonders if his daughter will take up arms as a shieldmaiden and join father and brother on the battlefield. The surge of pride from the thought pushes him on.  
  
A spear through his breast pushes him down.  
  
Shadows cross his face moments after his knees land in the blood soaked dirt and Thorin has to tell himself to calm down. He has to repeat a dizzying mantra in his head to prevent himself from crying out with the wrong names, with names he does not even know.  _Theyaren'tmychildrenTheyaren'tmychildren **Theyaren'tmychildren.**_  Their hair catches the sunlight and all Thorin can think of are two children in his dreams who cry "father" and cling to him and give him smiles-  
  
Fili and Kili fall in front of him and Thorin weeps as they whisper "uncle" and die with smiles on their faces and hands intertwined between them.

\---

Thorin does not remember what happened after his nephews fell, but when he opens his eyes it is to the sight of canvas tent and hurried medics led by Oin. They tend to him and Thorin can still hear the sounds of battle outside the walls of Erebor. It is not over then. He wants to return to war but his muscles and bones protest so he waits. And waits.  
  
He does not remember falling asleep, but the sights of his son and daughter greet him all the same. They are both in adulthood now, proud dwarven adults with strong, stocky frames. They smile at him, reserved but proud of their father and his deeds. His daughter crosses her arms with a smile and her brother mirrors her. Thorin wants to smack them for looking so smug but he cannot find the strength.  
  
So he laughs and smiles and urges them closer, holding them both within his arms.   
  
A voice cuts through, gentle and familiar and painful in its memory. Thorin stills and his children pull away. They are still smiling at him and he does not move until his son points over his father's shoulder, turns him around, and pushes him towards the sound of the new voice.  
  
In the waking world, medics panic when their king twitches violently in his sleep.  
  
Bilbo stands in his dreams, hands on his hips and smiling at him. He swipes his hands together and a small cloud of dirt falls from them; he has been gardening, then. He calls for his ( _their_ , his minds corrects him) daughter and she goes to Bilbo, kissing him lightly on the cheek as their son smacks Thorin on the back good-naturedly. For the first time since her infancy, Thorin notices his daughter's bare feet. They are large and rough with a patch of golden hair on top. Thorin looks to his son and finds the same, only with raven curls instead.  
  
Bilbo calls to him, names him "husband", and Thorin wakes up with dried tears painting his face.  
  
The sounds of battle have been muted and the Gray Wizard is in his tent, peering over him with bright, blue eyes. He nods, once, twice, before har-humphing and marching out of the tent. Thorin barely has time or energy to request an audience with Bilbo, but the message gets across all the same.

\---

When Bilbo comes to him, nervous and afraid and so very  _hurt_ , Thorin wishes with every fiber of his being to gather the halfing up in his arms and kiss away every misdeed and wrong he did to Bilbo, if only he had the strength.  
  
He does not, so instead he urges Bilbo to sit beside him on his soon-to-be deathbed and takes the hobbit's hand in his. He looks at the soft palm, blistered by their pony-back travels and from wielding his elven letter-opener. The fond nickname for Sting makes Thorin smile faintly before he speaks.  
  
He tries to keep his voice steady as he apologizes and asks for Bilbo's forgiveness, to part as friends (and more, his mind supplies), and to be once more in the brave burglar's good graces. He is accepted and forgiven and with the last of his strength he latches onto Bilbo's hand and the dam breaks.  
  
Thorin tells of his childhood dreams of a dark haired boy who was joined by a blonde girl.  
  
"They were beautiful," He tells Bilbo, grinning like a proud parent. "The boy, my son, he was to be my heir and I could tell only greatness awaited him. He was so strong and happy, with his joyous green eyes, just like yours, and dark curls. He called me papa once, the first time I dreamed of him, and I swear to you Bilbo, it was the sweetest sound." Bilbo tilts his head to the side, but listens on.  
  
"I grew older and then one night as I slept, a girl came to me. Her voice was like bells in the summer breeze and her hair was luscious and golden, long as a flowing river even though she had scant years to grow it. "Father" tumbled from her lips and I gathered her up and called her daughter. She was soft in my arms and was soon joined by her brother and there we played and talked and  _dreamed_  within the confines of sleep. They grew with me, Bilbo, my children did. I saw them reach adulthood with such grace and," Here Thorin stopped, choking on blood and tears. He clenched his eyes shut and knew he never would touch his family, none of them. His fool-hardy decisions had made sure of that. Thorin wept and opened his eyes again, looking to Bilbo with tears clouding his vision.  
  
"And then I saw you. You stood there, looking healthy and happy and glowing with radiance and you took my breath away. I had never been so awestruck until that moment. My daughter walked to you and called you "Da" and I could no longer claim the children as my own." Thorin stopped and coughed, using his hand to cover his mouth. He pulled it back and scowled at the blood in his palm.  
  
"Oh my Bilbo, our children were lovely, truly they were. I would have had to fight off suitors with my sword had they been born."  
  
His arms are filled with weeping hobbit seconds later. He cannot think of a better way to do die than with his warm love at his side, whispering names into his ear.  
  
Ah, so it was to be Gunnar and Hilde. Fine names for fine children.  
  
\---  
  
Thorin does not remember falling asleep but when he wakes, Gunnar is at his feet with Hilde at her brother's side. They are infants once more and both happily cheer "papa!" before the king and his children know nothing else but blissful sleep.


End file.
